My Baby is Sick | My Son Bought Home The Ick

My three-year-old son came back from being with his relatives up in Cleveland with the ick. Now, Maya and I are sick. Maya sounds like she has something rattling in her face every time she breathes. It’s nerve-wrecking hearing her sound like that. It breaks my heart. mayama

I didn’t get an apology from the father, he knew he was bringing him back with a cold. If walls could talk…

I’m so worried about my little mama because she’s having a hard time breast-feeding; she can barely breathe out of her nose. She hates when I have to get the bulb and suck all the snot and boogers out and I hate that I have to do it.

She had a fever and it finally broke. I just hope it doesn’t get any worse. I’d hate to have to take her in this frigid cold to the hospital. With no car and limited bus travel (bus only run on weekdays every 3 or so hours and stops at 5 pm) that would be a nightmare.

All I can do is cuddle her and get us through this together. My cold is gradually getting worse but I can deal with it. I just hope Maya can, too.

I Feel Like Shit and I Don’t Know Why

My postpartum depression was nothing like this with my son. I would say it was worse; I ended up in the psych ward. As far as the severity of the depression goes it’s different. I’m not even sure if I should call what I’m feeling right now as depression. I’ve been happy and feeling good about myself for weeks and now it’s like a dark cloud is looming over me and I feel like shit. I hate life right now. My son will be home tomorrow from being with his grandparents for the holidays. I miss him. Other than that, I don’t understand what’s wrong with me. I’m not tired, frustrated, mad, sad, or even in pain. I know I’m sick and tired of the bleeding from my nether regions though. I though breastfeeding was supposed to help with that? I guess not.

As I sit here trying to figure out why I’m suddenly wishing I could just curl up and cry my pain away, I’m also wondering how long is this going to last. It’s like the feel good emotions was a figment of my imagination; it’s all a blur. I want it come back. I need it to.

What I’ve Gathered and Struggled with Breastfeeding So Far | My First Month

The Struggle Was Real…

I always thought that breast was best, so when a WIC office in Cleveland told me that I wasn’t making enough milk for my son and that I should strictly formula feed him, I was distraught. I really thought that was true. I tried for days and days after I had my son and I wasn’t producing enough, no matter what I did. So I gave up and formula fed my son. Getting up making bottles, making sure it was warm enough for him, etc. I hated it. Mostly because he seemed as if he was never getting enough. 12-24 ounces a day. You’d think all that milk there’d be spit up, nope.

Now with my little mama the struggle isn’t so real. She’s fine…I think.

Ouch!

Since day one, my little mama wants to only take the tip of my nipple in her mouth. On rare occasions she will adjust herself and get a mouth full of my breast in her mouth. Most of the time I’m in pain. She fights my breast, sticks her hands in her mouth, lick my nipple, rinse and repeat. My nipples burn and ache; I get sharp pains from deep within my breast regularly, wearing bras even hurt. I saw a lactation consultant yesterday and she tells me that she may be tongue-tied. She told me to take a clean finger or put on a medical glove and run my finger along the roof of her mouth. I haven’t done it because I don’t have the slightest clue what I’m looking for. I think I’ll let my pediatrician check for that.

Night Feedings

At night she feeds a lot more and sleep a lot less. She fights at the breast more. She groan, grunt, squirm, sigh, root, kick, cry and get frustrated. I try to lie down and feed her that way but that’s when she has an episode. I have to sit up and feed her with her in my arms. She feeds for 2-3 hours at a time that way. Every 15 minutes throughout the night if I’m lying down with her.

Pumping

I have to pump her milk when we’re outside of the home or when her father needs to feed her – which is a rare occasion. I usually get around 2 ounces from each breast if I haven’t eaten anything or had anything to drink. On a good day I get 5 ounces or so. That’s usually because I’ve eaten good, or, I’m backed  up and need to pump because now I’m engorged; which hurts like hell.

My appetite

Most days, I’m eating once a day. My appetite has left with the pregnancy. Other days I’ll eat maybe twice and snack throughout and then end up neglecting on drinking any fluids.

What Works

When it comes to getting my breasts filled with boob juice oatmeal, Gatorade, and water is all I need. When I pump I get about 8 ounces of milk which is great when I’m going to be out of the house for that day

Support

There is little; just my fiancé who works 40 hours a week for 5 days. If I need to do something it has to wait. If I need to take a nap, it has to be when she’s sleeping. When my son is here with me that’s practically impossible.  I’ve never really had a support system so that’s not a big deal. I just wish I had someplace comfortable to sit besides the bed in my bedroom and the bed is like laying on metal spikes.

December 25th, 2014

I wasn’t sure how to title this post so I went with the date. Today was just an ordinary day for me. It was spent eating lasagna and Texas toast while catching up on news for Final Fantasy XIV. My daughter slept on and off throughout the day; only waking up to feed and look around for a bit. Her great-grandmother and grandma came over today to drop off my son his holiday gifts. He’s in Cleveland spending the holidays there with his grandma, grandpa, and other relatives. His step-granddad and one of my fiance’s friends got my son toys, too. I would have to say that my son is set in the toy department this year.

Outside of that today was okay. I managed to make it through this holiday season without having to watch a single movie with Santa in it. I did though watch a series of animes: Parasyte and Tokyo Ghoul. I’m going down my list of gory anime and I’ve only begun.

It was very quiet, calm and peaceful here today; mostly because most of that time was spent sleeping.

Happy Holidays!

You’re a Month-old Today!

mayama Oh my little mama, time sure has flown! I love you so much, Mama. Yes, that’s what I call you, it just stuck when I first seen your face a month ago.

You’re getting bigger and stronger everyday and that makes your father and I so very happy. We can’t wait till you’re laughing and interacting with us more. Right now, you’re just sleeping a lot – and eating.

Still have day and night mixed up, but that’s fine. When you are awake you’re nursing and then you pass out just to wake up 5 minutes later to finish where you started. You’re like an old woman sometimes.

You had a doctor’s appointment a couple weeks ago and they were worried about your weight. You weren’t at your birth weight yet. I talked to WIC and they told me not to worry because breastfed babies gain weight differently.

As long as you’re healthy and not losing a dangerous amount of weight, you’re fine in my book. Your spit-up, though has me a bit concerned. I don’t know if it’s reflux or you’re simply eating too much. It bothers me because of how much it is. I know your stomach isn’t that big and some of the milk that comes is undigested yet, it still looks like the milk from my breast.

It could also be something I’m eating, I’ve done a bit of research and I’m still waiting on the pediatrician to get back with me on that.

Anyway, you’re happy, I’m happy, your dad is happy, so everything is fine.

I love you, Mama.

My First Week Home With Maya

Today Maya is a week old. Time sure flew by. It feels like I just had her yesterday. I love her so much already. I didn’t P1020320think I had room in my heart left to love another. I thought my son took and kept all the love for himself. I thought I’d given it all to him. I can’t wait for him to meet her. Due to how troubling my health was after she got here, he’s still up in Cleveland at his grandparents house having a ball.

I’m sitting here as I’m typing this crying my eyes out. I knew those hormones was going to wait after I had her to rear their ugly head. I’m so happy and I feel like I don’t deserve it. I’m always beating myself up and oftentimes, it isn’t warranted.

As far as Maya goes, shes wonderful, she eats a lot, sleeps a lot, pees and poops a lot. She doesn’t cry a lot or open her eyes a lot, but that will probably come with time. I noticed that I’m less stressed out this time around. When my son was born, I kind of hated life. Late night formula feedings were such a pain. I regret not sticking to breastfeeding, listening to those people at WIC telling me to switch to formula because they thought I wasn’t making enough still bug me. Now, all I have to do is pop a boob out and everyone is happy.

I also don’t feel like I’m doing this alone and getting judged every five seconds because they feel since they raised their nieces and nephews that they have the right to belittle my new parenting. It feels good to be at ease. I have to say that I’m really enjoying parenting.

 

I Spent The Better Half of Turkey Day in the Hospital

When I mean the better half, I mean the part where I finish cooking everything but didn’t get to eat any of it.  Since I was released from the hospital Monday after giving birth to my sweet daughter I’ve had pains. Not the typical birth pains; the uterus shrinking and crotch stitches pain, this pain was different. The sharp pains increased in intensity and length by each passing day, the pain was so bad I had to call 911…on Thanksgiving. I had Maya on the 22nd and was fine for the most part, so this scared the shit out of me.

I was crying, breathing heavily, screaming, moaning, wishing I was going into labor because those pains were tolerable. You didn’t hear a squeal, a scream, a moan, or a groan the entire time I was on pitocin and was dilating. I handled those contractions like a pro; did my breathing and was doing fine. The shit-storm that was the right side of my abdomen was something else. It was 100x more painful than anything I’ve ever experienced.

The pains were sharp and they were angry. When I moved, it made them worse. Getting me out of my apartment and into the ambulance took some work because every movement hurt. Let’s fast forward a bit…

I’m at the hospital and the doctors are looking at me wondering why I was there. Yea, I was JUST there last week and was transported to have Maya. Well here I am again in their emergency room. They couldn’t tell me what was wrong. The had me get a CT Scan – never had one of those before. I had to drink this contrast at it was disgusting. It was like drinking water, Gatorade and Robitussin all at once, the aftertaste was that of nightmares. They finished with the CT Scan and saw nothing wrong, so they scheduled an ultrasound and that’s when they found something.

They saw what they believed to be afterbirth. They tell me that this needs to be removed because it could be toxic, it could be necrotic and I could die. Then a nurse tells me that one of her colleagues friends died with her baby in her arms from this same shit. Well if I needed a more better reason to get transported – again to Akron City, that was it.

They examined me, pumped me full of pain drugs, antibiotics and anti-nausea meds prior to telling me all of this so I was sitting there nodding off because I was so relaxed as they were talking to me. Telling me that horror story woke me right-the-fuck-up.

I’m still like the only one in the emergency room and I’m starving. They tell me that I can’t eat anything yet because I may need surgery when I’m transported to Akron City. I’m freaking the-fuck out because I left my home in only my maxi nightgown, a scarf on my head, and my tennis shoes. My fiancé didn’t get to grab my coat or socks because he was holding Maya while checking on me. There were so many emergency techs in my home that it was understandable. There was also that I would be stranded in Akron if I were to go. The hospital I was at was right up the street from me. So I’d be in Akron on Thanksgiving, alone, stranded, in a nightgown and tennis shoes with there being 2-3 inches of snow on the ground. Lucky me. I didn’t want to die though; especially since I was really starting to enjoy life. It took me too damn long to find happiness and I didn’t want to die before I got to really enjoy it.

Well I got on the phone and called my ex-mother-in-law and she was more than willing to help me. She told me she’d bring me clothes and take me home. She stayed in Cleveland and it snowed really badly up there. I was very grateful for her. She, too didn’t want me to die. After I made those arrangements, I felt better leaving and being transported to Akron…again.

Now I’m in Akron in the emergency room and 5 different doctors and nurses come in to ask me what happened and donewhat was wrong. I must have the patience of a saint in this department and not know it because anyone else probably would have went insane due to the amount of times they’d have to repeat themselves. They all had a confused look on their faces because the ultrasound, the lack of symptoms and my pains weren’t adding up so they had to ask me the same questions differently. I tried to explain to them the best way I could what was wrong. They then tell me that it doesn’t sound like I needed such a dangerous and invasive surgery. I didn’t have a fever, I wasn’t bleeding profusely, my urine wasn’t burning, and I was vomiting or had any other symptoms that would call for that there was a fuck-ton of afterbirth still inside of me. So they sent me home with Percocet and two different types of antibiotics…yay, more pills.

And that’s how I spent my first turkey day with my family in two different ER’s.

Well She’s Here! | My Birth Story

maya

Maya R. W. 7lbs 40z 20in

Well so much for the to-do list, Maya came early! It was one hell of a ride getting her here, too. I must say that this pregnancy was definitely different from my first. I was more scared around this time due to how she came early and why.

The Falls

Last week I fell in my bathroom getting up from the toilet. I became dizzy and ended up in the tub. I hit my ass and then landed on my back. I was okay from that fall for the most part. My son on the other hand was having a cow. He kept asking me if I was alright and kept telling me to eat my dinner. I thought it was very protective of him and something I don’t see often. He was like my little protector while his step-dad was away at work.

The second fall happened the next day in the afternoon. There was still snow and ice on the ground and I decided that this was the perfect time to get my stir-crazy ass out of the house for a bit – not. My son wanted bananas, I wanted to take a walk so yea I thought everything was fine. My first mistake was putting on tennis shoes and not my winter boots. I’m still beating myself up over that fact. Well right at the first sign of ice I almost had an oops; I managed to save myself from that one. 25 paces towards a small, minuscule, harmless patch of ice that could have been avoided, I bust my ass. When I fell, I tried to cushion the fall and catch myself but ended up kneeing myself in the belly. I fell flat on my back and laid there for a bit allthewhile trying to convince myself to get up. That involved rolling from side to side to gain enough momentum to land on one side to get up. I laid there though for a good 1 minute or so, looking up at the sky, contemplating life; wondering why I fell on such a small piece of ice when I managed to electric slide my ass past the bigger patch. After realizing this was all my fault, I managed to sit up. Now, the hard part was bending my now hurt knee to get up. Mind you, I’m still on the ice I slipped on. Luckily, someone pulled over and helped me up. He asked if I was okay and I told him yea. Once he was convinced, he left me with my hurt pride and a few kind words: “You take care of that baby!” and that was that.

I continued on to the store – bruised pride and all. By the time I got there though, that wasn’t the only thing that was bruised. I could barely walk. No one in the store seemed to notice this limping, pregnant woman wincing and moaning around in their store. I did my grocery shopping and limped back home. When I got there, I told my fiancé that I fell and he immediately got upset that he let me go in the first place when he didn’t want me to. I told him that I could barely walk and that I may need to call for an ambulance. I ended up calling my 24-hour nurse line first and of course they told me to get my ass to the hospital. So after that call, I ate a bit, gave my son his bananas and pop tarts – that he managed to get all over the living room, I called his “dad” and had him pick him up a day early, once my son was gone I then called 911. They were here 5 minutes later.

Two vehicles showed up and now there were 8 people in my home looking down at me as I sit on my exercising ball. I told them what happened and they agreed that I needed to be seen at the hospital. I couldn’t walk down the stairs so they got their stair chair stretcher thingy-mabob. That was fun.

The Hospital – University Hospital

hospital

I don’t like needles to begin with…

Now I’m at the hospital and I still can barely move my legs. A guy nurse came in to poke me in the arm with needles. He didn’t seem like he wanted to be at work that day. He decided to not even try to get me in the bend of my arm, he went for the gusto and got me right in my wrist. That shit hurt. That wasn’t the fun part; I had to repeat my story 5-6 times to 2 different people and I’m surprised my patience lasted that long. Once they finally got what happened after me telling them for the 7th time, they decided to get in contact with my nurse practitioner where I was receiving my prenatal care. It took them two damn hours. TWO to find out where I was going for my prenatal care. I gave them all the information they needed and it wasn’t until I had to repeat once again where I was going that finally something clicked in their head.

They decided they needed to do an ultrasound and then an x-ray. The ultrasound went fine. The technician was telling me that she was measuring at 38 weeks due to how long her legs were. I was surprised, but then again, at my first ultrasound they told me I was measuring a little far ahead. I was just glad she was okay. Next was the x-ray. There was a little discrepancy with that because the technician didn’t know that there was an order for me to have an x-ray even though I was pregnant. They needed one because they wanted to make sure my pelvic bone wasn’t broken. I had to go back to my room and sit there for another 30-40 minutes. I finally got my x-ray and back to my room I went. Climbing in and out of that hospital bed took a lot of work. They didn’t check my cervix or did any vaginal tests and they didn’t tell me the results of the x-ray so I assumed everything was fine.

Where is my fiancé you ask? He’s at work. At this point we are assuming that everything is okay and that I’ll be going back home soon. Well it didn’t pan out that way. The doctor on call at this emergency room wanted me transported to the maternity ward at the hospital where I was getting my prenatal care. They didn’t have all the tools needed to monitor me and the baby; baby heart monitor, contraction monitors, etc. Once I found that out, I called my fiancé and let him know what was going on, they let him leave work early and he headed to the hospital where I was; hoping he got there before they transported me. He brought me something to eat and we sat there and talked about any and everything but the reason I’m at the hospital. We began discussing the plan on whether they will be keeping me or not at the maternity ward. I told him that I will keep in touch with him. Transport was hours from picking me up when it was all said and done. My fiancé decided to head home and will meet up with me the following day. I arrive at the maternity ward around 10:30 that night. So you can imagine how long I was in the emergency room.

Summa Akron City Hospital Maternity Ward

I was put in triage and had very lovely nurses; I loved their personalities. They hooked me up to the contraction and fetal heartbeat monitors while I repeated thrice again what happened, then once again when the OB/GYN doctor came in to check my cervix.  Once they ran their tests, nurses were in and out of my room getting more and more information out of me and having me sign papers and such. From what the nurses were telling me then, everything looked fine. Around 1:00 that morning I was asked how I was getting home. I had the foggiest clue. I had 20 bucks on hand and that wasn’t enough for a taxi. I could barely walk as it was and it looks like my only route was to camp out at the hospital until the first available bus to the transit center started running. My mind was running a mile a minute and I was beginning to worry. They kept coming in asking me if I found a way home yet and had to tell them no. I was still weighing my options. 30 minutes go by, I’m still in my gown from the previous hospital – I have two on actually so I could cover my butt. I’m still hooked up to the monitors so I decided to eat the rest of my food that I bought with me when the doctor of the day came in to tell me that they will be keeping me. They didn’t like how Maya was reacting to the contractions. Her heart rate would drop every time I had one. Oh shit…I called my fiancé.

They had a maternity room cleaned and that’s where everything was going to go down. They hooked me back up to my monitors that were god-awful uncomfortable and watched me from their desks out in the hallway. Every so often they would come in and readjust because I moved. They also would come and ask me if I needed anything. All I wanted to do was to sleep. I wanted things to be okay. I wanted to go home.

My Fiance

He’s at home tripping balls. He was already worried that they had to transport me and I was there in the hospital alone and now he’s worried that something was wrong with Maya. He still haven’t left yet because I wanted to make sure that he wouldn’t be wasting bus fare. I talk to him for a while, telling him that the nurses have conflicting stories. They’re saying that everything looks fine, it’s just Maya isn’t liking the contractions and that I could be going home or I may not. Fiance too wired to go to sleep, I told him to calm down and then went I to sleep.

Induction

Later that morning a nurse and a doctor walks in to my room to tell me that they will be inducing me and that an anesthesiologist will be in to talk to me. They decided it would be safer to induce me than to send me home and something happens; they don’t want to be liable for that. Now I’M TRIPPING BALLS.

Back At Home

I call my fiancé and tell him that they’re inducing me and now he’s tripping on all the balls and is now running around like a maniac trying to get everything together. I text him everything I needed – my hospital bag wasn’t packed yet. Maya’s was packed weeks ago so that was one less thing for him to worry about. He calls me to tell me that he couldn’t find the camera. Now I’m more worried about him not finding the camera  more than the induction. I didn’t get to take photographs with my son and I really wanted pictures this time around. He then tells me that he’s going to stay here a while longer and get the house cleaned up a bit. He didn’t want Maya “coming home to a dirty house”. I hang up with him to let him calm his tits while I lay in the hospital bed looking at the ceiling trying to calm mine. I ended up falling asleep.

Anesthesiologist

I woke up to a woman dressed in scrubs and a mask standing at the end of my bed. She tells me she’s from the anesthesiologist department. She was there to discuss what my plans were on pain relief. I just looked at her for a few seconds. I was still reeling from the fact that this was happening. I wasn’t ready. I needed more time. I wanted to go home and get ready for Thanksgiving. I wanted to put this entire fall behind me, but here I am, talking to this nice woman about pain relief. So I told her what my plan was and she told me the procedures and what will be required from me. She handed me some papers to sign and was on her way. She reassured me the guy was really good and is an expert at what he did – gosh I hope so! – She had to mention the 30 years in practice he acquired. Later on you’ll read why that doesn’t mean a goddamned thing.

Cytotec or Foley Bulb

The next woman to enter my room was there to talk about the initial induction. She told me that I could either get foleythe Cytotec pill inserted – which cannot be stopped if the contractions come too fast or too painful, or the Foley Bulb – or balloon – that is inserted up past the baby’s head and blown up to widen my cervix. She then tells me that she will start off with the Foley Bulb, both sound scary as hell. I kind of wanted the pill, but shit either way I’m going to be in pain.

I’m here alone with my thoughts, scared out of my ass, but you couldn’t tell by how quick I fell asleep after the nurse left to get prepped.

The Induction

The pain was a bitch. She had to check my cervix to see if I was dilated and it felt like hot poker sticks were getting jammed in my cervix. She tells me that I’m about a 1 and that would be enough to insert the Foley Bulb. Her assistant nurse hands her all of what she needed and she went to town. It felt like she was in there forever. Why? Because she couldn’t get to where she needed to be because Maya’s head was in the way. “She’s right there.” All I could do is continue doing my breathing. They kept telling me that I was doing a good job on my breathing, I was surprised because I haven’t been to not one birthing class with either pregnancy. Anyway, she’s still up in there and she finally get it past her head and I’m so relieved I almost thanked Zeus.

Satan’s Penicillin

They then hook me up to Pitocin, Penicillin and some other third thing I can’t remember. I never needed penicillin before so when my arm began feeling like it was on fire I freaked! I didn’t get a warning or anything. That pain shot straight up to my shoulder and stayed there like a mother-in-law who refuses to go home. I started screaming “What is that?! What the hell is that?!” while looking at my arm. I call for a nurse and it felt like she was taking forever to get to my room. The longer she took the worse it got. I wanted to drag my arm through Alaska. A nurse entered my room and she wasn’t “my nurse” so she went and got my nurse. She came back with ice in a glove and I was forever grateful. That’s when they tell me that penicillin burns like a bitch.

Why?

Why did my fiancé bring all of her clothes, diapers, cloth diapers, bottles and other items when her bag was packed? I don’t know, but I’m sure it had a lot to do with him losing his shit. My hospital bag was all of her things. Most of what I asked for was left at the house. I couldn’t help but laugh. I kept telling him if she had to stay they’d provide everything she would need at the hospital.

Time Drags On…

Every couple of hours a nurse came in to up the Pitocin and then check my cervix. I was at 7cm before the contractions got uncomfortable. The nurses were looking at me amazed at how calm I was, telling me, “you make this look so easy! You’re doing so good!” I thought I was doing a horrible job.

Fiance shows up around 6 or 7 that evening. I was dilated at about a 9 and finally wanted the epidural. The first time I got it was in and out. This anesthesiologist was going in out, left, right, readjusting, etc. When he finally got it in and I was able to relax, I was good from there on out. Me and fiancé conversed until it was time for me to push. Which was around 4 the next morning.

She came in to this world at 4:25 am 11.22.14.maya

Postpartum

Well, it’s Thanksgiving day and I’ve been on a roller coaster of emotions and pains. I ended up having to go back to the hospital. I spent thanksgiving in the hospital. You can read about that here.

Anyway, I only had a 1st-degree tear which was great. I barely bled, another plus. The light at the tunnel though? The color of pain. My breasts were sore. I still could barely walk when I got up from bed or where I was sitting. It always felt like I worked out like a maniac the previous day.

For the most part I was fine. I was able to move and function during the day. but around the same time every night I would get this sharp  pain on the right side of my abdomen. It would gradually go away then come back stronger. As days went by the pain started off more painful and lasted longer. I had no idea what was going on.

Maya

I was able to bring her home with me since she was considered term – 37 weeks. She’s perfect. My breasts are sore as hell. Breastfeeding has been more successful this time around. It took her a minute to get the hang of it because she was getting so frustrated at first. She’s a sleeper and very grouchy if you wake her up. She keeps her eyes closed 99% of the time so when she does open them it’s always a treat. She’s like her father but more extreme; she hates the light; artificial or natural. She has a bit of jaundice in her eyes but they said that it was normal. She lost more than a couple of ounces while in the hospital due to my attempts at keeping her fed. As long as she don’t lose more than 10% of her birth weight then it’s fine.

I can’t wait til her big brother can see her.

 

Before The Baby Comes | My To-do List

I haven’t exactly been nesting. This burst of energy most moms get around the 36th-39th week of pregnancy I may mayasfacenever get, which is fine. There’s so much I still need to do before baby gets here. I may have more time than I realize, I may not.

[ ] Buy Maya’s Bouncer.

[ ] Buy more diapers.

[ ] Clean out the refrigerator.

[ ] Find recipes for freezer dinners.

[ ] Get printer paper.

[ ] Print out Birth Plan.

[ ] Print out breast pump prescription application.

[ ] Pack hospital bag.

[ ] Pay bills to keep them up-to-date.

[ ] Find a pediatrician for Maya and Adam.

[ ] Deep clean the kitchen.

[ ] Get November’s WIC at least.

[ ] Stock up on healthy snacks and foods.

[ ] Talk to Tommy about Birth Plan and who can and can’t visit us at the hospital.

[ ] Put money aside for crib mattress.

[ ] Buy sheets for said crib mattress.

[ ] Wash all the clothes, blankets and bed sheets.

[ ] Find furniture.

[ ] Have Maya.

[ ] Get signed up for HEAP/PIPP.

[ ] Have a plan on when Tommy and I will be getting married since it won’t be until I get myself in order.

Things I did managed to do so far:

[x] Put together Bassinet – that’s been put together since August. 🙂

[x] Buy and install new screen for laptop. This will be my lifesaver at the hospital.

[x] Sort out Maya’s clothes. Put diapers and wipes away.

[x] Packed Maya’s bag.

[x] Make a list of Xmas presents for son.

 

I Thought Everything Was Okay…

Source: Deviant art: Ajgiel

Source: Deviant art: Ajgiel

I’m not the greatest person to be in a relationship with, I know that, but I’ve sat here thinking that my relationship was okay. We moved away from our huge problems and I thought that what was wrong with us. Soon as we moved things got better. I was happy to get away from the hell hole I was in. I thought everything was okay.

A little back history: I’ve never been in a relationship where the person I’m with truly cared about me. I’ve never been in a relationship where I would be up worrying and pacing back and forth about them when they leave to run an errand. I never been in a relationship where I loved this hard. I’ve never been so afraid to lose someone who wasn’t my son.

I’m the least affectionate person anyone would ever know. It’s mostly because I was never treated that way in life before my fiancé came along. The rest is from fear. Fear that if I let that person have that last 5% of my heart they’ll leave or I’ll lose them in a way. I’m afraid if I stop worrying, if I don’t give them that last 5% they’ll be okay; they’ll always be around. By they I mean my fiancé.

Anyway, today my fiancé finally told me how he felt even though I was led to believe despite the things that were already made aware that everything was okay. How wrong I was and I feel like shit. I’ve left my fiancé thinking that I don’t care about him or his feelings, that I don’t find him attractive because my awkward, outward responses to certain things he do. I honestly don’t blame him. Saying that I was like this with all my other significant others wouldn’t make it any better. It would actually contradict my first statement. How could I tell someone I would give my life for; the only one outside of my son that make me happy and want to live and breathe for that “It’s like this with everyone I’m with“? What? That’s not right.

There are huge changes between my past relationships and this one but don’t mean shit. I’m at a crossroads on what I should do, how I should feel. I’ve been thinking about what he said all day and I can’t help but beat myself up over it. It’s hard because I thought we were okay. He tells me that he’ll get over it but I don’t want him to. I may not be all that good with relationships but that doesn’t sound like something that can be gotten over. I’m just at lost for words right now and I don’t even know how to approach bringing it back up. I’m not sure how much it took for him to even tell me but when he did I didn’t really say anything, I just left it alone and left the room. Super dick move, right? I know.

I just know how I am. I know how I can get. I can get defensive and that’s not what was needed right then.

I’m questioning my part in this relationship. I feel that it’s not wise to get married, not for a while. Not until I can be the person I need to be in order for this relationship to last like I desperately want it to. I thought I was doing things different this time. I thought since I opened up more than I ever have; cared more than I ever have; cherished more than I ever have that I thought everything was okay. Well everything isn’t, not at all. I honestly don’t know what to do or say.

I think when the last bit of self-esteem and confidence disappeared 3 years ago that’s when part of me gave up – I’m stuck on which part gave up. I honestly don’t know. From the confusion on whether I’m asexual or if it’s just my libido that’s fucked up from getting molested for so many years as a child from getting forced to do things with my ex-husband that I didn’t want to do or said no to from trying to see what they see when they look at me when all I see is this ugly decrepit woman, it has me emotionally confused. My mind is running all over the place when my fiancé looks at me. My mind is all over the place when I hear my voice when I talk to him. My mind is running all over the place when I’m naked in front of him. My mind is all over the place when he pulls me close at night. My mind is in constantly in nonstop unrest. I go to sleep and wake up feeling the same way. I feel like I don’t deserve him.

I wish I could tell him how I feel, but I wouldn’t know where to begin; I wouldn’t know how to say it. I’ve always been one of those types that could type out thoughts better than standing in front of someone and speak my mind unless I’m angry. Then, I’m like a drunk person, my thoughts get a voice and they’re the truest words that leave my mouth. Usually when I get that mad I regret nothing because I always mean what I say. Always. I never once go back and apologize for what I said when I’m angry because they were my honest, raw feelings. I used to throw shit when I was angry, now that I have kids, it’s better to voice what I’m feeling.

My fiancé wants it to go back to how things were when we first met. I didn’t think things changed that much since then. It just shows how oblivious and how far off I was with thinking everything was okay.

I never want to not be in his life, but if we don’t make it, it won’t be anyone’s fault but mine. I’m so fucking stupid.

I never had someone who loved me this hard and this much. Any woman with a modicum of common sense would be lucky to be in my shoes and here I am fucking it up and not even knowing it – well now I do, but before today…didn’t have the slightest clue. I just wish I knew what to do besides listen to him and understand that those are his feelings. I feel so helpless.

I have this feeling that my depression, my low self-esteem, and lack of confidence is going to be what kill something I’ve been looking for practically all of my life. I’d be so devastated and I’ll probably fall back into that slump I was in before I met him. Popping antidepressants and snapping at everything that rubs me the wrong way.

We’ve had so many firsts and so many good memories throughout this relationship. There’s definitely more good in this relationship than bad. We’ve been in our new place since August and we’ve argued once. We are on the same level on so many things, but when it comes to me and who I am and how I see things, I’m water and he’s oil. I’m so used to being attacked, talked down on, lied on, used, abused that my first thing to do is throw up a wall and immediately get defensive. I wish I could stop that. I wish I could stop bottling up my emotions, too, but I know that’s something that will have to be rewired in my brain over time.

He was willing to take me, my son and my baggage without blinking. He immediately treated me like his equal and protected my son. He’d come to my son’s speech therapy lessons, travel up to see me in Cleveland when I was still living there. He helped me get off of Cymbalta, he helped me find a happiness in my life and so much more and I can’t even get something as simple as sex right. What kind of wife would I be? There’s so much I want to tell him, so much I want to do for him, but I’m so much of a fucking coward that I’ll fuck it all up.

I’m in a birth group for when I’m due on BabyCenter.com and a lot of those women are bitter, sad, mad and having so many issues with their husbands, boyfriends, fiances, etc. A lot of them end up saying: “I never thought this would be me. Never thought this would be me. I’m always seeing other women lose their significant others. I was so sure that we were secure in our relationship and now here I am!” I’m not foolish enough to sit and think losing my fiancé isn’t plausible. It very well can happen to me and I think about that every single day.

I love my fiancé, my son and my unborn daughter more than I’ll ever love myself.